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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29806926">It's All Fun And Games (until you realize you just fucked someone's output)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wealthywetsunny/pseuds/Wealthywetsunny'>Wealthywetsunny</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Dom/sub, F/M, Foreplay, Gun Kink, Hair Pulling, Hook-Up, Implied Relationships, Johnny is generally an asshole, M/M, Samurai concert, Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:15:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,906</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29806926</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wealthywetsunny/pseuds/Wealthywetsunny</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Then who do you like the most?” Johnny takes a drag and blows a plume of smoke in her direction, she can’t tell if it’s on purpose, but it makes her nose scrunch up before she waves a hand to clear the air. “Kerry?”</p><p>God, no. If he only knew that he, Johnny Silverhand of all people, was her main interest in the band. The only reason why she got into them in the first place. There’s a reason he’s the lead vocalist. Maybe she’s more a fan than she thought. </p><p>“Dunno.” She tips her head to the side curiously. “What makes you think that?”</p><p>“Because,” he starts, gesturing with his metal hand, “everyone is crazy about him. Bet you fifty that he’s backstage getting his cock sucked right now.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alt Cunningham/Johnny Silverhand, Johnny Silverhand/Original Female Character(s), Kerry Eurodyne/Johnny Silverhand</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It's All Fun And Games (until you realize you just fucked someone's output)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>She’s making her way through the crowd, shouldering past the thick throng of people who are still meandering around despite Samurai’s last performance ending almost an hour ago. Makes sense, to an extent, their tour bus is still in the parking lot which means they’re still in their dressing rooms. Or, as everyone is wishing for, somewhere accessible to the public. Maybe just at the edge of the curtains that lead backstage, or sitting at the bar nursing a much deserved drink, ready and willing to speak for a moment or sign a t-shirt. That being said, Freja isn’t one of the hopefuls trying to get a glance of the acclaimed artists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s more focused on getting out of here for a smoke. It’ll calm her nerves, and she needs it with how badly her hands are shaking. Closed spaces like this have never done her any good, but she had the tickets for months now--had paid a small fortune for the shitty seat she got, and so she couldn’t just </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a small maze in the hall they booked out, smelling of sweat and sex around each corner. By some small mercy she finds her way out without having to ask someone to point the way. The air is cooler now that nighttime is fast approaching and she instinctively wraps her arms around her torso. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freja fumbles for her a stray cigarette in her coat and a small zippo lighter to go with it. It takes a few clicks to get the light to burst forth, thwarted by the harsh winds until she cups a hand over it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first puff is heaven, has her sighing at the familiarity of the smoke in her lungs as she leans against the brick wall of the alleyway she came out into. It’s freezing, her fingers already numb and red, but she doesn’t feel up to going back inside, not yet. She can hear the jeering masses inside and can only assume that one of the members of Samurai has made an unexpected appearance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She certainly doesn’t envy them. Poor fucker probably just wanted to take a piss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not the life for her, but to each their own, maybe that’s what they want. To be followed around by strangers who don’t really know you. To never get any sort of privacy because every action, every word, no matter how small, will be scrutinized by the tabloids.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It sounds like hell. She snorts. That’s fame for you though, never what you imagine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door to her right, the same thick metal she had forced open minutes ago, swings open with such force she stiffens in surprise. Freja keeps her gaze pointed downward though, she’s not in the mood to get into some baseless argument with anyone, which is likely in a place like this when most people are hopped up on all sorts of pills and new age synth drugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nope, she’ll stay ignorant and smoke her own poison of choice, thank you very much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, curiosity is a bitch, and so when the stranger parks himself on the same wall as her, she sneaks a glance. She doesn’t see much, not when she’s still got her head tipped down and the shadows out here are getting fiercer. But she recognizes enough of his clothes and long hair for her heart to stutter in her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s still dressed like he was when he was on stage, same tight jeans and trademark jacket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s not a groupie, a far cry from the fans dying to get an iota of attention, but she has her moments. And so having him so near is...exhilarating in a way. He’s famous for fucks sake, it’s pretty damn cool. Freja looks in the opposite direction from him to where the ally breaks out onto the street, and she watches the cars pass, all those strangers oblivious to a random girl’s internal struggle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beside her she hears him fumble around, making too much noise for the both of them, and eventually he lets out a long drawn out sigh followed by a muttered curse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of fucking course.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey--” he draws out the syllable this time and she whips her head around, scowling. “Do you gotta light?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freja blinks at him. Surprised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He waves the cigarette he’s got in hands, “a light,” he elaborates. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nods and goes to hand her lighter over to him, but he gets in her space, closer than he needs to. She stares at him, confused and miffed until she realizes what he’s waiting for. The cigarette is dangling between his lips, the end far enough away from his face that the flame wouldn’t catch and burn him because the fucker wants her to light it for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She snorts but complies wordlessly, why not? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t know you smoked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No?” He falls against the wall beside her, shivering just as much as she is. “You’re not that good of a fan then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m…” she cuts herself off, train of thought crashing down. She was going to say she’s not a fan, but that’s not true. So instead she just shrugs. “I am, you’re just not my favorite.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That gets his attention. He turns towards her fully, shoulder up against her own. He scowls at her, and it’s so unexpected that she laughs at what he says next. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a fucking funny joke.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t a joke.” It definitely was. But as it turns out, it’s more fun to tease him than she would’ve thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah? Then who do you like the most?” Johnny takes a drag and blows a plume of smoke in her direction, she can’t tell if it’s on purpose, but it makes her nose scrunch up before she waves a hand to clear the air. “Kerry?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, no. If he only knew that he, Johnny Silverhand of all people, was her main interest in the band. The only reason why she got into them in the first place. There’s a reason he’s the lead vocalist. Maybe she’s more a fan than she thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dunno.” She tips her head to the side curiously. “What makes you think that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because,” he starts, gesturing with his metal hand, “everyone is crazy about him. Bet you fifty that he’s backstage getting his cock sucked right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I—are you kidding? I can’t tell if you’re kidding.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs, leaning in closer as he does so. An excited shine to his eyes when his aviators tip a little further down the bridge of his nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely not. In fact,” he pauses, cutting himself off to pitch his cigarette onto the ground below where he stomps it out with the toe of his boot. “C’mere, lemme show you something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes hold of her hand, surprising her once more. Back inside she huddles closer to him, using his body as protection against the people who crow at Johnny, trying to get closer to the rockstar. Freja keeps on his heels, something he makes note of with a teasing smile soon followed by a snort. Asshole knows the reputation he has among his fans, he knows everyone wants a taste and he definitely gets his point across when others holler at their disappearing forms as they make their way backstage. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her cheeks heat up at the implication. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing is going to happen, she scolds herself. She’s not a toy to be used, he’s just fucking with her, all he wants to see is her flustered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hear them yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s about to ask “hear what” but not even a second later she cocks her head and knows exactly what he’s talking about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gentle moans and whispery talk shared in a moment of faux intimacy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kerry’s voice stands out and she blushes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny keeps on walking forward though, past guards and billowing curtains. Closer to his bandmate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you planning on interrupting or something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grins. “Not necessarily. But we gotta move past them to get to where we’re going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her face screws up but otherwise she keeps quiet. Nerves tangling her stomach up until she feels like she’s going to throw up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s...a sight to behold, that’s for sure. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The</span>
  </em>
  <span> Kerry Eurodyne on his knees for a stranger wearing one of their band shirts. Faux tags to mirror Johnny’s own around his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny gives them a sidelong glance. “Huh. Guess I was wrong. He’s the one getting his throat fucked tonight.” He looks back at Freja, like this is totally normal, and who knows, maybe it is. “He must be in some kind of mood.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freja nods, lips pulled into a tight line. She tries to make herself as small as possible as they slip past the pair and down another corridor. Once they’re behind closed doors, a dressing room that’s about as big as her apartment, only then does she release a sigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She does a slow spin, taking in the space. It’s preem, anyone would think so, Samurai fan or not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s while she’s distracted that Johnny crosses the room and goes to grab a bottle of beer from a fridge that’s way too small for the amount of money they must be making. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes one at her in an offering. “D’you want some?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not? Sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His grin is sharp and excited. She knows that look. The same one her friends give her when everyone else is either already shitfaced or they’ve got work in the morning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s happy he’s found a drinking buddy for the night. Johnny collapses on a nearby L shaped couch, the material plush enough that he sinks an inch into it. Invitingly patting the space beside him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freja takes the beer from his hand and sits down next to him. It’s quiet for a few moments while they each focus on their respective drinks. She sips it slowly, more than aware that she still has to drive home and drinking on an empty stomach is bound to make that near impossible. With a sigh she settles into the couch, eyes fluttering shut, and really she could fall asleep right here if he let her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hand grabs her thigh and shakes. If she had been closer to drifting off she might’ve screamed. Instead she just flinches, nearly spilling her beer on herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t bring you in here to take a nap. I’m not a damn babysitter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She barks a laugh. Taking another swig just as he reaches across the table in front of them to grab himself another beer. “I’m a big girl, Johnny, I don’t need looking after.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hums, uncapping the fresh drink and draining a quarter of it in a single gulp. She watches in abject fascination as his adam’s apple bobs with the swallow. Working like a piston. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Makes me wonder though…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny raises his eyebrows, willing her to continue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> you bring me here? To show me Kerry on his knees? To share a drink?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs, so bright and loud that it almost sounds genuine. In fact, it might be, but she doesn’t know him well enough to say. Crazy enough she hopes it’s real. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s hard to be special when you’re sitting beside a rockstar who’s done this song and dance dozens of times before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’d be nice though, to make some sort of lasting impression. Which is kind of silly when she reflects on it, because this concert was a last minute gig for her, she was considering not even coming. She only casually listens! But there’s something intriguing about Johnny Silverhand that the tabloids will never be able to capture. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on. You can’t be that naive.” Johnny says smartly, “Do you need me to spell it out for you?” He pauses, searches her face and sighs when she just stares and bites down on her bottom lip anxiously. “Well I wanna fuck. Obviously.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I--Oh, um…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grunts, pulling his glasses off and tossing them on the coffee table. He kicks his feet up on the same table, marring the wood with dirt stains. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to. No pressure.” He tilts his drink back, peering at her out of the corner of his eye as his head goes back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turns out Johnny takes rejection better than most men in Night City. If anything that just makes him stupidly hotter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No...no, that’s not it. Just didn’t expect it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” The hand on her thigh slides up, closer to her crotch, just inches away, and he squeezes. “Wow, okay,” he chuckles, “you don’t get out much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freja puffs up her chest, “I get out plenty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It sounds like a challenge. One she accepts all too eagerly. Maybe it’s the nicotine from her last cigarette and the new layer of booze Johnny added, but she’s getting bold now. It could be Johnny’s own confidence bleeding into hers though, that makes the most sense. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so she matches his grin and leans forward. Mumbling a soft “yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Show me then. Surely you picked up a thing or two out on the streets? Since you get out so much?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As it turns out, it doesn’t feel good when someone calls your bluff. Freja hides it the best she can, finishing the last swig and slamming it down on the table with a note of finality. She’s crazy nervous, she’s never done something like this before. Get handsy with someone when anyone of their friends could walk in and catch them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh god are they going to fuck? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her sex life is embarrassingly dry. Months upon months without another person's touch. So she eats up whatever he gives her. His metal hand sliding around the nape of her neck to hold her in place, the other one rubbing at her clothed sex. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a lot to take in so quickly, but she doesn’t tell him to stop. She couldn’t fathom the idea, not when her mind is flickering into overdrive at the stimulation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Distantly, past the blood rushing in her ears, she hears Johnny laugh. He kisses her cheek, his overgrown stubble scratching her skin, and he whispers softly to her. “You’re easy to impress. You’re not a virgin, are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny doesn’t seem adverse to the idea. Truly curious. Or maybe even cocky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gives her head a firm shake, as much as she can manage with him still holding onto the back of her neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good,” he rumbles, “I prefer my toys to have a little experience.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha--? Toys?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He unbuttons her jeans and pulls the zipper down. Ghosting his index finger inside the hole he created, over her cotton panties down her slit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well you’re not any sort of girlfriend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words don’t hurt like she expected them to. She huffs in amusement and tips her head back, whining when he understands immediately and kisses up her throat. Along her jaw and behind her ear. He tugs on the lobe, circling her earring with the tip of his tongue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gives a gentle pull on her jeans, and she obediently raises her hips for him. Until they’re pooled at her ankles and she has to pause to kick them and her shoes off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny shoves her down on the couch, swinging himself up so he could straddle her hips. He sits on her lap, strangely careful not to crush her under his weight. His hands settle on either of her shoulders, messaging the bare skin her t-shirt reveals. He’s eating up every reaction she gives him, which is a lot, admittedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freja looks away, licking her chapped lips. “It’s been a while.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm.” He bends down and kisses her collarbone, sucking at the skin hard enough to bruise. His hand snakes between them, the cool metal dragging down her stomach until he can slip under her shirt. Going back up to grab a handful of her tit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He makes a surprised noise to find her without a bra, shooting her a cheeky grin when he flicks at her nipple and she gasps, hips bucking up. He laughs. “Sensitive. You’re gonna be </span>
  <em>
    <span>fun</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he sits back up she takes the chance to toss her shirt off onto the floor. She snaps at the elastic waistband of her underwear, indicating that she wants it gone, and he gets the hint easy enough. Sitting up on his knees to help her slide them down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her knees are to her chest, giving him a view he takes a few more seconds to appreciate before he guides her legs apart to wrap around his waist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not like it’s much of a relief, the bastard is still fully dressed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freja digs her heels into his back, a hand reaching between them to fumble with his jeans. They’re tighter than they have any right to be, showing off almost everything even before they’re down around his ankles. He isn’t wearing anything underneath, which shouldn’t surprise her, but she still raises an eyebrow at him, like he owes her any sort of explanation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He isn’t focused on her searing gaze though, instead he’s watching her chest heave with each labored breath. His hands are on her shoulders, fingers drumming against her skin. She wants to feel those same hands back on her breasts, but right now she’s above begging. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With an annoyed huff she takes his length and gives it one pump, going faster than she normally would because she knows how hook ups are supposed to work. There’s no place for love and affection here, not when they’re strangers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t know how he likes it but the pace she sets does the trick just fine going by the noises he lets out. Grunts and moans that are borderline animalistic as he rocks his hips up into her hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re just as sensitive,” she laughs when her thumb brushes over his slit and he gasps, shaking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny isn’t wearing his glasses anymore but he wears his poker face pretty damn good. The subtle twist of his mouth says it all though, even if he’s not aware of it. He must be used to being in control, she reasons. Having fans absolutely begging and shaking for him by now. With a cheeky grin brought on by another bout of confidence she reaches up grabs his hair, curling the strands around her fist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She fully intends to pull him in closer, to entice him if anything, to show him that she wants to take that next step and have him fuck her. But he doesn’t let her get that far.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grabs her wrist, stops her from tugging, and plants his other hand around the span of her throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you fucking dare, </span>
  <em>
    <span>honey</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He leans in closer, nose brushing against hers. His hold on her wrist tightens and in return she lets go of his hair. His ‘ganic muscles may not be strong enough to break her bones, but it’s starting to hurt. “There we go…” Johnny murmurs, and she sighs at the heat that flutters across her face. “That’s not how this is going to work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well if you’d hurry up--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snarls, teeth bared, and slams into her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freja arches her back and howls, eyes scrunched up shut. It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as she lets on, but it was one hell of a surprise. She claws at his back. Arms wrapping around his neck for some sort of support when he starts to move. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s fast, fucking into her like it’ll be the last time in his life. And all she can do is hold on for the ride, letting out the most lewd noises to spur him on. Not like he needs encouragement, he’s worried about his pleasure and his alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s not unexpected, or hardly a disappointment after her dry spell. She snakes a hand between them, whining when she can’t quite reach, not with how close he’s pushed into her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Need help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gasps, his cock hitting her g-spot deep inside. Reaching further than she ever could with any toy she owns. “God, yes. Yes, please, please, Johnny.” She’s babbling, desperate to finish before he does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny nods, a few strands of hair tickling her cheek with the motion. His hand leaves her neck to slide down her stomach, reaching between her folds and finding her clit with ease. He rubs in fast little circles, watching her face change rapidly as she nears her peak. He slows down, pulling out and leaving only the tip in before slamming back into her hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It sends a wave of heat down through her core and she moans, mouth open and panting. She tries to tell him to do it again, but before she can get the words out she’s coming around his cock. Her walls squeezing him and almost making him spill over into her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He curses and stops completely, reigning himself in. His fingers keep moving though, dancing around her sensitive clit then brushing down to where they’re joined together. Her cunt gives one last tug before he’s forced to pull out. She appreciates that, the last thing she needs is to go searching for plan B in the morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he doesn’t start jacking off immediately, instead touching her tits and pulling at her nipples, she asks “Did you want me to…?” Gesturing vaguely to his dick, where he’s still leaking and ready.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, yeah, yeah, hang on.” He falls away from her, getting up on his knees to reach down to grab something. He plucks a piece of clothing off the floor that doesn’t belong to either of them, moving it to the side to grab what’s underneath. He sits back up and brandishes a shiny pistol.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Jesus Christ!” She scrambles away until she’s pushed back against the arm of the couch. Staring at him with wide eyes when he only regards her curiously. “Please don’t shoot me.” It’s the first thing out of her mouth without any sort of thought, and she instantly regrets it when he laughs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her throat bobs harshly with a swallow that struggles to go down. She watches him carefully as he grabs her ankle and pulls her back towards him.</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here.” Johnny hands it over to her, watching as she twists it around with a confused frown. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What…am I supposed to do with this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He groans, annoyed, and settles back between her spread legs. He’s achingly hard still, his cock head dragging along her thigh and spreading his precum on her skin. “Get on top.” Before she has time to question what the fuck is going on he’s flipped them over so he’s laying on the couch and she’s straddling his bare hips. She grabs his cock and gives him a firm stroke but he stops her, annoyed all over again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The gun--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without thought thought she aims the barrel at his temple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The effect is instant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He whines, a sound she never would’ve assumed him capable of. But it’s loud in the otherwise empty dressing room. His breath stutters and his pupils are blown wide. Excited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Oh.” Freja giggles, somewhat giddy with this revelation. Certainly the media doesn’t know about this, that the thought of danger, the mere suggestion that she could shoot him with his own gun...the same one he used to wow the raving crowd of fans once in a blue moon...it gets him hard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From there it only takes a few quick pumps until he finishes in her hand. Gasping out her name, which is a surprise, she wouldn’t put it past him to forget it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushes her off of him, legs swinging over the couch as he collects himself. She carefully lays the gun down on the table, not bothering to ask if it’s loaded, he can’t be </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>stupid. She has an insane urge to go grab her clothes, to cover herself when he goes to throw an arm over her shoulder and pull her back with him. She bites that down and instead focuses on the steady beating of his heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If she felt like she could fall asleep before, well now she’s much closer, and this time he doesn’t seem to mind. He watches her almost fondly, huffing out what could be a laugh as she curls up to steal some of his warmth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They don’t talk for a long time, content to share the same air and just relax. Though she knows that she can’t stay for too much longer, his bandmates have got to return eventually. And it’s with that thought in mind, just as she’s stretching her legs with every intention of getting dressed, that the door swings open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freja very nearly screams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s only fair, in hindsight, that she saw Kerry Eurodyne in such an intimate way and now he’s seeing her sitting bare ass naked on their couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stares at her, lips twisting in confusion instead of the anger she had been bracing herself for. He does a sweep until he finds Johnny, who’s already moving on. Which sends her for a loop as he stands up with his cock hardening once more between his legs--probably a cybernetic upgrade to be able to get it up again so fast--and pushes in close to Kerry. Kissing up the column of his tanned neck, humming sweetly when he notices her staring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Off, Johnny, fucks sake.” But Kerry makes no move to actually stop Johnny from sliding his hands down his torso. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kerry glances over at her once more as she finally gets up. He’s frowning now, a sight that makes her wince. “C’mon, your damn input is still here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not my input. We did have a good time though, isn’t that right?” He looks back over at her, smiling beautifully. “Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stays quiet. Shell shocked. This is fucking surreal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kerry laughs, finally shoving Johnny away to strut forward to snatch a bottle of vodka off a nearby dresser. “Seems like your impressive cock didn’t wow her.” He knocks the drink back, throat working like a piston and lips coming back glistening. “Wanna swig?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shakes her head. Swallows. Then when his eyes flick down she realizes that she’s still very much naked. Her arms wrap around her chest and she huffs, directing her gaze to the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should...probably go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny hums is assent, flopping down onto the couch they just fucked on and reaching for Kerry again. This time settling his hands on his hips, fingers thrumming steadily. Johnny leans down to nose at the front of Kerry’s jeans and now there’s no protest at all. Just a slight sigh of pleasure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d offer to let you join, kid,” Kerry starts, grinning at her, “but Alt is supposed to be here soon and Johnny doesn’t like making her mad.” He pets over Johnny’s hair, “and we both know every time you fuck a fan she gets mad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Freja breathes in sharply, quickly gathering up her clothes and throwing them on hastily. She doesn’t know exactly who Kerry is talking about, not another member of Samurai that’s for sure, but if it’s Johnny’s actual input—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus she needs to leave. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t know Alt was coming,” she hears Johnny murmur just as she slips her shirt back on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was meant to be a surprise, you gonk. She puts up with a lot of your shit and you keep on doing shit like this. You don’t deserve that woman.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny looks back over at Freja, eating up every last detail before she covers up completely. “I know…” he eventually says. Yanking Kerry down onto the couch beside him. “She likes </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> though, Ker. She even lets me suck your dick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh holy hell what did she walk into??</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny keeps on going, the alcohol and drugs wearing off slowly. “Maybe Alt’ll let her join.” Again he looks at Freja, where she’s frozen at the door now that both men are focused on her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dunno.” Kerry curls up beside Johnny, an arm thrown over his shoulders. “You could try asking if you’ve got a death wish. If a stranger is worth it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny looks downright offended at that and waves her back over. She doesn’t move. Too nervous at this point, unsure where she stands now that she’s finding out more by the minute. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Freja. Now, come here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her knees go all weak and she nods quickly, rushing over like he’ll give her another taste. Johnny snorts, shooting Kerry a cocky smile when she all but collapses down on the other side of the couch next to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay around a bit longer, mkay?” He detangles himself from Kerry to grab at her arm, wrenching her in near, close enough that their noses brush. “We’re gonna work something out. You an’ I.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kerry swats his thigh and Johnny sighs, relenting. “Well, you, me, Kerry and Alt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If Alt doesn’t leave you as soon as you ask.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, Kerry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny’s hand grows looser, tugging her in until she’s forced to rest her head on his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t answer to you, Johnny, at least tell me why she’s so damn special.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Johnny glances down at her, notices her paying special attention to what he’s about to say because she’d like to know too, but he just shakes his head and says “later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that’s all the answers she gets for now. All that’s left to do is wait. </span>
</p>
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